University of Virginia Library

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE THE FIRST.

Jocasta, Antigone.
Joc.
Thou only now of my unhappy offspring,
Antigone, thou only triest to bring
Some consolation to my mortal grief.
Yet, notwithstanding, thou dost owe thy life
To the incestuous king. Thy qualities
Would make one doubt the horrors of thy birth.
Mother of Œdipus, and wife of Œdipus,
The name of parent only makes me shudder.
Yet, when thou call'st me by the name of mother,
There is, I know not what, that sooths my soul.
Oh, that I dared to call my sons thy brethren!
Oh, that I dared my guilty voice to raise
To the immortal gods! I would implore
That they on my devoted head alone
Would hurl the shafts of their unerring vengeance.

Ant.
Alas! the gods have ceased to pity us
The gods themselves abhor us. Œdipus!
It is a name that of itself suffices
To blast our fated race; we were defiled,
Tainted with guilt, ere yet we saw the light!
Were reprobated long before our birth ...
Mother, why weep'st thou now? When we were born
Thou rather shouldst have wept. Didst thou then see
Nothing of what the future should bring forth?
Brethren at once, and sons, Eteocles
And Polinices, yet have scarcely given
Proofs of their characters.

Joc.
To Œdipus
They hitherto have shown but little pity;
Display'd unnatural hatred towards each other.
'Gainst their flagitious mother, why have they,
With better reason, not turn'd all their rage?
Inadequate to my enormous guilt,
No other punishment have I to bear
Than feelings of remorse. I fill the throne,
The genial light of Heaven visits these eyes,
While Œdipus, unfortunate, yet guiltless,
Deprived of sight, covered with infamy,
Neglected lies; and e'en his very sons
Abandon him; by their means is he thus
Constrained to shudder with a double horror,
That he of his own brethren is the father.

Ant.
And dost thou think thy sufferings are light
Compared with those of Œdipus? Though he,
From grisly caverns, mad with grief and rage,
A thousand times a day entreat for death;
Although his sight be gone, for ever gone,
Quench'd in an everlasting night of tears,
Yet less than thee do I account him wretched.
He will know nothing of the spectacle,
That in this realm will be too soon displayed;
Or, if he know, he will not as thou wilt,
With his paternal eyes behold th'impure,
The impious, and the reprobated remnant
Of our devoted race, destroy each other.
Between the brethren hate is at its height;
And 'twould be difficult to say, if thirst
For blood or power most vehemently rages.

Joc.
I see it ... I? ... the brethren fight? oh, Heaven,
I hope to see it never. I alone
Am thus enabled to support my life,
By the desire which in my breast I feel,
The warm desire, and the aspiring hope,
To stifle with my tears, that which, alas!
'Twixt my exasperated sons now burns,
The fatal flame of discord ...

Ant.
Dost thou hope it?
Oh, mother! one the sceptre is, and two
Are the competitors. What can'st thou hope?

Joc.
That the alternate oath will be observed.

Ant.
That oath both swore: but one alone has kept it.
He from the throne is banished. Swoll'n with pride,
Perjured Eteocles now fills that throne,
And reaps the harvest of his breach of faith.
But Polinices, forced from foreign states
Assistance to solicit, to his wrath
Will set no bounds, if he the sceptre gain not;
And will Eteocles to force concede
That sceptre, which, by force, he may retain?

Joc.
They have a mother ... to my mediation
Will not their fury yield? Ah, rob me not
Of my last hope! Although, as fame reports,
The Argian king advances with his troops
To aid the cause of exiled Polinices,
And to reclaim his violated rights;
And though Eteocles, inflamed with pride,
Still obstinately keeps the Theban throne,
Yet in my tears, and in my indignation,
And in the anguish of a mother's bosom,
There is a power to bring them both to reason.
My loud reproach Eteocles shall hear
For broken faith, and violated oaths;
And Polinices shall be told, and tremble,
That the same Thebes which he now aims t'assault
Witnessed his birth, and was his infant home.
What more? If they compel me, they shall hear me
Asseverate the opprobrium of their birth,
And swear that ere their swords attack each other,
Those swords shall find a passage through my breast.

Ant.
Alas! If I a hope could entertain
'Twould be in him that's banished from the throne:
His was the milder nature; nor his heart
Can by long exile be so much depraved,
As is his brother's by long use of power.

Joc.
Thou deem'st most highly of the exiled brother?
Yet has Eteocles, as he has done,
The bounds of filial duty not transgress'd;
Without my leave not form'd a strange alliance;
Nor had recourse to the enemies of Thebes.

Ant.
He has not had, oh mother, to endure
Long exile, perilous adversity,
And broken compacts. Soon, too soon, oh mother!
Whose is the better nature we shall witness.

SCENE THE SECOND.

Eteocles, Jocasta, Antigone.
Ete.
Behold, at last, that Polinices comes;
He comes, who so exclusively engrosses
A mother's partial, fond solicitude.
Not as he went from Thebes shalt thou behold him,
Alone, an exile, and a wanderer;
Not as he saw me on that day return
To claim from him the covenanted throne.
He returns to us with a proud array
Of powerful enemies: in arms he seeks
From his own brother the ancestral sceptre:
Anxious and ready he displays himself
To burn to ashes these paternal walls,
These sacred temples, and these household gods,
This palace, in which, first, the breath of life,
An infant, he inhaled; this, that contains
His father, and his mother, and his brethren,
And all that he should hold most dear and sacred.
He hath thus sacrilegiously referred
All law, all hope, all reason, to the sword.

Joc.
Then true is the report? Oh, Heavens, in arms
To his paternal soil!

Ete.
He has forsworn
The Theban name; he is become an Argive.
To him his daughter hath Adrastes given,
And he will give him Thebes. From yon high tower,
If thou art disposed to see it, go, and witness
How he hath trodden down his native soil.
Thou wilt from thence, e'en on our lands, behold
His gaudy banners floating on the breeze,
And, with arm'd strangers, see the outstretched plain,
As by a bursting torrent, overwhelmed.

Joc.
Have I not often told thee, that to this
By dint of force thou drov'st him? ...

Ete.
Of my brother
The first assailant thou shalt not behold me:
I only shall secure the walls of Thebes.

Ant.
He quarrels not with Thebes. He seeks alone
To gain by arms a throne to prayers denied.

Ete.
Commands, they were not prayers. Opprobrious,
Unjust commands, which I refused to obey.
And I, assuredly not used to obedience,
Possess the throne. Since he will have it so,
Himself absolves me from the plighted faith.
The abominable tie that he has formed
With the enemies of Thebes, has, of itself,
All antecedent covenants dissolved.

Joc.
He is my son, in spite of what he has done.
Such I esteem him; and moreover hope
To make him yet esteem thee as a brother.
I mean forthwith his fury to confront,
And meet him on the plain. Meantime do thou ...

SCENE THE THIRD.

Creon, Eteocles, Jocasta, Antigone.
Cre.
Whither, oh sister, dost thou bend thy steps?
The paths are intercepted; and the gates
Of Thebes are closed 'gainst the besieging foes.
The walls with armed men on every side
Encompass'd; horrid sight! Before the rest,
A bow-shot from the troops, comes Polinices
Towards the city gates, all unattended.
The vizor of his helmet raised, he spreads
Towards us one powerless hand, and with the other
Bends towards the earth the point of his drawn sword.
With gesture such as this, audaciously
Admission for himself, and not for others,
Within the walls of Thebes he challenges;
Invokes his mother's name, and makes profession
Of an impatient wish to ask her blessing.

Ete.
This is a new wish truly! with drawn swords
T'invoke the embrace of an offended mother.

Joc.
But didst thou not, oh Creon, first exhort him
His arms to lay aside? My inmost mind
Is known to thee. Full well thou art assured
I could not see, much less embrace a son,
Who comes with sword in hand to brave his brother.

Cre.
His words breathe nothing but respect and peace.
Nor do his troops with military license
Run through our fields: From the resounding bow
The barbed arrow has not hissed through air;
Nor has an Argive weapon tasted yet
A drop of Theban blood. On their swords' hilt
Their right hands rest immoveable; each warrior
Is sway'd by Polinices; thou might'st hear
A confused murmur through the camp, which cries,
“Peace to the Thebans, and to Thebes.”

Ete.
Indeed!
This most assuredly will be to you
An honourable peace. Does then my brother
'Gainst me alone this enterprise prepare?
'Tis well: and I alone accept the challenge.

Ant.
But, notwithstanding, if he speak of peace,
Let us first hear him ...

Joc.
Let him be admitted
Alone within the gates: I will speak with him;
Nor can'st thou interdict it.

Cre.
If he bring
No treacherous influence with him—but I fear—

Ant.
His soul's a stranger to the arts of treason.

Ete.
Truly thou know'st him well! It seems to me
That thou art acquainted with his inmost mind.
Perhaps you concur in thoughts as well as words.

Joc.
Alas! my son, how in these bitter accents
Thy malice ill-disguised breaks forth! To Thebes,
Ah, let him come, and come to my embrace;
There lay his weapons down. Let us, meanwhile,
Go to the temple, and implore for peace.
And did he ask for me? Beloved son,
'Tis a long time since I beheld thee last!
In me alone perhaps; in my immense,
Impartial, and maternal love, has he,
E'en more than in his troops, reposed his hope.
He is indeed my son; he is thy brother:
Betwixt you I alone am arbitress.
For a few moments banish from thy mind
The thoughts of how he has returned to Thebes;
Remember only how he went from thence;
How many years, in spite of thy pledged faith,
Through Greece he wandered: contemplate in him
A prince, a suffering exile, and thy brother.

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Eteocles, Creon.
Ete.
With menaces this Polinices hopes
To bring me to submission, and degrade me?
What boldness! To my palace unattended
He comes, as if to mock me! Perhaps he deems
That all is gain'd when he appears in person?

Cre.
All this I apprehended from the day
That, in the name of Polinices, came,
Claiming the covenanted Theban throne,
The bold Tideus. The fierce menaces,
The contumelious carriage, which he join'd
To the request, sufficiently convinced me
Of Polinices' sinister designs.
He feigned pretexts whence he might snatch from thee
The common throne for ever. 'Tis now clear
He wishes for it never to restore it:
Cost what it may he wishes for it now;
E'en though the impious path that leads to it
Were with the last drop of thy blood defiled.

Ete.
Assuredly, he now will be compelled
To drink that blood e'en to the latest drop:
For my existence and my throne are one.
Shall I indeed become the willing subject,
And swear allegiance to a hated brother?
Hated indeed; but still more scorned than hated.
I, who now see none equal to myself?
I should be vile, if from that altitude
I could a moment e'en in thought descend.
From the throne's height a king should never fall
But with the throne itself. He cannot find,
Except beneath its venerable ruins,
A worthy sepulchre, a worthy death.

Cre.
I see, oh king, with exultation, see,
In thee, the lofty valour live again
Of thy magnanimous progenitors.
By thee the name of son of Œdipus,
Clear'd of all stain, will reassume its lustre.
A conquering monarch, to posterity
No other recollection shall he leave
Than that of his atchievements.

Ete.
But, alas!
I have not conquered yet.

Cre.
Thou art deceived;
Already, by not fearing, thou hast conquer'd.

Ete.
What avails flattery? I am so beset,
That, amid war's vicissitudes, to me
Nothing is left secure, except my courage;
Nothing is left to hope, except revenge.

Cre.
Thou hitherto art king: I first here swear,
For all thy subjects, for myself, to thee
Inviolable faith. Rather than serve
Thy hated brother, we will all here spend
To the last drop our life-blood. On the traitor,
Should impious fortune smile, he shall alone
Reign o'er the ashes of what once was Thebes.
But, perhaps, if pity for thy faithful subjects
Influence thy breast, thou wilt retract thy purpose
Of open war. Ah, let him only perish
Who plots against thy life! thy safety wills it,
And more than this, the safety of the state.
A brother's death may to a brother seem
Perhaps too cruel; but ferocious war,
Protracted war, can that indeed appear
Less cruel to a sovereign? less unjust?

Ete.
What do I wish for else, or what else hope,
To what do I more ardently aspire,
Than to oppose my brother man to man?
This hatred is commensurate with my life,
And its indulgence more than life I prize.

Cre.
Thy life? Dost thou not know it? That is ours.
'Tis true, that valour cannot find a seat
More noble than the bosom of a king:
But oughtest thou t'oppose to treason's wiles
An open valour? Is he not a traitor?
What brings him now to Thebes? With sword in hand,
Why should he speak of peace? Or why invoke
His mother? Perhaps he comes here to seduce her?
His impious sister is already his.
Truly great plots are hatching. Wilt thou not
Defeat such fraudulent contrivances?

Ete.
Ah, doubt it not! if long he tarry here
'Twill be to his misfortune. If he live,
To flight he'll be indebted for his life:
I would not trust his death to other hands.
To mine alone 'tis due. And say, what rage,
Like mine, will penetrate that stubborn breast?

Cre.
Ah! to secure a more consummate vengeance,
Suspend awhile thy too impatient hate.

Ete.
The means most fatal, fierce, and manifest,
Alone please me.

Cre.
Yet perhaps thou wilt be forced
T'adopt the most conceal'd ... Thy brother comes
Powerful in arms.

Ete.
Thebes also has her warriors.

Cre.
Yet has Adrastes many more: The war
Too unexpectedly comes on us. Ah!
We can but die fighting beneath thy banners.

Ete.
But why speak I of warriors? I am one,
One also is my brother.

Cre.
Dost thou hope
To defy him? His mother, sister, all, ...
Around him flocking ...

Ete.
But my trusty sword,
Cannot it clear a passage to his person?

Cre.
And with the effort thou wouldst lose thy fame.
Such an excess would be condemned in Thebes.

Ete.
And does not Thebes blame fraud?

Cre.
That fraud would be
From all concealed, or partially discovered.
And if a king appear not criminal,
It is enough ... Thy brother was th'aggressor ...
Do thou, by management, make him appear
Still to continue such ...

Ete.
What management?
I understand thee not.

Cre.
Upon myself
I take the whole affair: Repose in me:
And listen only to my counsel. Thou
In time shalt know it all. First it behoves us
To make him trust to simulated peace.
Do thou so well this stratagem confirm,
That he, without the Argives, may consent
To tarry here in Thebes. Then 'twill be easy
To make the traitor treacherously perish.

Ete.
Provided that he perish, and I reign,
A little longer I'll constrain myself
To keep my hatred and my fury pent
Within my bosom.

Cre.
I will circulate
With art the cry of peace; to peace proposed
Do thou consent with a well-feign'd reluctance:
'Twill be thy interest to-day to cheat
Both friends and foes alike. But, above all,
From the solicitous bosom of thy mother
Be e'en the shadow of suspicion banished.